


don't make me sad, don't make me cry

by blafard



Series: and they were roommates [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - College/University, Baz is a little shit, M/M, Roommates, artist!simon, simon lowkey pines after baz but he doesnt kNOW, theyll kiss soon i PROMISE, this is a slow burn series kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blafard/pseuds/blafard
Summary: Simon put his hands into the pockets of his baby blue dungarees, cleared his throat and then said, “I wanted to ask you if you would, maybe, be open… to being the model for my assignment?”The next second Baz’s face went completely blank.“What?”





	don't make me sad, don't make me cry

**Author's Note:**

> I'd recommend reading the first part, but this can be read as a stand-alone too!
> 
> title from "born to die" by lana del rey

“I need a model for my latest assignment, Pen.”

Penny glanced up at that, her purple hair in a beautiful braid across one shoulder, Micah’s arm around her waist. “Then look for one,” is all she said in turn. Then she turned a page in her book and ignored Simon again.

“You don’t understand… I need a model I can _expose_ completely. We get different motifs and phrases we have to capture through paintings.” Simon propped his head up in his hand, his septum piercing shining with the soft light of the sun, his freckles on full display. “That means I have to spend a lot– and I mean _a lot_ of time with that person and I thought–”

“No.”

“But _Penny_!”

The girl sighed in experation, closed her book with more force than necessary and then grabbed Simon’s hand in one of hers.

“ _Simon_ … you have to go out there and look for someone else. This assignment sounds _huge_ and I just don’t have the time,” she explained gently, her mouth set into a straight line.

He closed off his face at that, but nodded in understanding nonetheless. He couldn’t expect her to drop everything for him at a moments notice and her studies would have to come first.

He would just have to find someone else.

A year ago he would have asked his girlfriend Agatha, now _ex-girlfriend_ , but even though they were on friendly terms again, he wasn’t sure if he would survive hours upon hours in close proximity with her, especially after how everything ended.

“You’re right. I’ll find someone else.”

For a few minutes, the silence grew between the three, leaves rustled in the soft breeze of the wind, chatter from other students around campus was audible and then Micah opened his mouth to say something.

“What about B–”

“Absolutely _not_.”

* * *

Inspiration was a thing, that came and went as it pleased. More often than not, Simon tried to hold onto it by churning out an insane amount of sketches and art in a few short weeks until he could feel a cramp hindering his movements, that soon grew too painful to continue.

Now though, was one of the times Simon didn’t have the pleasure of being visited by inspiration in any form. He had been lying in bed all morning now, Baz had been gone the moment he woke up and hadn’t returned yet.

The blond had discarded his glasses onto his messy desk, alongside the sketchbook Baz had gifted him a few weeks ago now on a whim, that was filled with half finished ideas he didn’t have the patience to work on.

He just _needed something_ or _someone_ that would make inspiration spark again.

When he wasn’t making art in any form, even something as small as a small doodle on his hands, he felt useless. Because it was _one thing_ he truly excelled in, without anyone doubting it and without it he was just boring old Simon, the boy that hopped from foster home to foster home as a child and kept being covered in bruises he would trace with color as he grew older to paint fading pictures onto his skin.

He had already tried to listen to music, which only resulted in him throwing away his phone until it landed face down on the floor next to some of his clothes and standing up seemed like too much effort, since he decided to skip class anyways.

His professor would have asked him about the assignment and then he would have to admit that he didn’t even start, that he didn’t even have a _model_.

His life was a disaster.

He wasted away for another hour at least until he finally tried to gather all of his energy and stand up. Simon needed a good, hot shower and then he’d try to look for something to do until his art block would disappear again.

He had gotten over it before and he would succeed hopefully.

* * *

At around 7, Baz returned to their room, his hair pulled into a quick bun and his black hoodie rumpled. He had deep shadows underneath his pale eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

That Simon hadn’t noticed before wasn’t that big of a surprise. After Baz had gifted him the sketchbook they went back to their respective lives, without interacting much. Their silences weren’t as oppressive anymore, but that was all that had changed really.

And to Simon’s horror he had to discover, that it _bothered_ him.

It was obvious that Baz wasn’t that big of an asshole as he liked to pretend, but Simon wasn’t very keen on getting yelled at, if he decided to get to know his roommate of one and a half years better.

So, naturally, he just had to ask about Baz’s eye bags in the worst possible way! Because he wasn’t the one that studied literature and knew all the perfect ways to enquire about someone’s health.

“You look like shit.”

Baz eyes narrowed in seconds and Simon knew it was the _worst_ possible thing to say right after it left his mouth.

“You aren’t exactly one to talk,” he retorted hotly.

He threw his bag without much regard onto his bed and watched dispassiontly as his phone slipped out of it and tumbled to the floor, much like Simon’s a few hours earlier.

Then he sighed heavily, ran both hands over his face with a lot more force than needed and slumped into his chair at his desk.

This wasn’t normal Baz behaviour. Simon got pretty good at reading Baz over the year and was quite certain, that something must have happened if he looked so down and done with everything.

“Are you… ok?”

The black haired boy laughed humorously at that and then regarded Simon with sad eyes.

“Whatever gave you that thought, Snow? Was my dramatic entrance not enough?”

They didn’t say anything else after that.

* * *

The first motif their professor had given the students was _raw sadness_.

Easy enough, most people would think by now, but capturing sadness was a tricky thing. Drawing someone while crying would certainly cover the basics and allow you to get an okay-ish grade, but Simon was not after an okay-ish grade, he wanted nothing less than perfect.

And the look Baz wore last night _had been_ raw sadness.

His grey eyes were clouded over by something akin to pain, sadness had radiated off him in waves and Simon was pretty sure he heard him sniffle underneath his blanket after they decided to head to bed for the night. And then in the morning he looked so defeated by whatever was bugging him.

Simon’s fingers itched to put Baz’s features on paper again.

The moment Baz left for the day, Simon flipped open his new sketchbook, slipped his glasses onto his nose and began to carefully put faint lines on crisp paper.

Baz’s features were a familiar subject for Simon. He had filled entire sketchbooks with them on lonely days, where he let his mind wonder until it was stuck on Baz and nothing else.

(Which had to mean something, but Simon _refused_ to think about it right now, like all the other times.)

It was almost _embarrassing_ how fast he was in finishing rough sketches of that detached look Baz had worn yesterday, of grey eyes clouded over by something Simon didn’t dare name.

His hand flew over the page, his eyes had trouble keeping up at a few times until he finally felt satisfied in the way he depicted Baz.

His hair was only implied, since Simon wanted to focus on Baz’s stunning eyes in this piece. There would be no tears in the painting, Simon already knew that, but he thought he would be able to capture how much sadness those grey eyes had conveyed anyways.

* * *

“So, have you found a new subject to _expose completely_ , as you said?”

Penny and Simon had weekly meet-ups for lunch, where they would be able to talk and catch up properly, without anyone else of their other friends getting into the way for once.

Today didn’t seem to be a day to catch up though, because Simon was completely _engrossed_ in his sketchbook and had ignored Penny aside for a quick greeting.

“Simon?” she asked again, then snapped with her fingers until he reluctantly looked up to meet her dark eyes.

“Hmm? Did you say something?”

“I did! Thanks for noticing,” she answered sarcastically, her eyes gleaming. “What’s so interesting in there that you didnt even talk about how annoying Baz’s classical music obsession or something else he did is.”

The corners of his mouth turned up at that and then he quickly snapped the book shut and put it into his bag again. “I can’t tell you yet, but I hope I can show you soon,” he answered conspicuously.

* * *

_‘Asking can’t hurt,’_ was all Simon thought up until the point he was in his room again, Baz sitting at his desk with headphones in his ears and dressed an all black ensemble that screamed **_leave me alone._**

He was nervous to say the least.

What if Baz would laugh at him? Or turn him down? Or asked him to destroy the sketches he had already made, without being able to make them permanent in the form of paintings?

But he just had to ask. Baz was his best option at the moment and he longed to know how far he could push the other boy, before he showed him a different side, a softer one maybe, a side that wasn’t a detached mask he put on most of the time.

So, he softly patted Baz’s shoulder until the boy turned around, a deep frown on his face.

Annoyed, he pulled out one earphone. “What do you want?”

Simon put his hands into the pockets of his baby blue dungarees, cleared his throat and then said, “I wanted to ask you if you would, maybe, be open… to being the model for my assignment?”

The next second Baz’s face went completely blank.

“What?”

“You heard me, Baz.”

He went quiet afterwards. Baz regarded Simon with a newfound intensity, searching for something that might hint at a joke or something else Simon couldn’t name. Seemingly satisfied with what he found in the blond’s open eyes and tentive smile he simply nodded.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes… if you tell me what that would entail,” a small crease appeared between his dark eyebrows.

“Well, we would of course spend a _lot_ of time together,” Simon began, noticing how Baz rolled his eyes, “and I’d try to trigger different emotions for each piece, like sadness, anguish, happiness and so on.”

Then it was quiet again. Baz seemed to really think about it, his lips pressed in a hard line, until he nodded.

“On two conditions,” he said. Simon nodded in response. “I want to have fixed times in which we work on your _silly_ assignment, since not everyone’s world revolves around you and I want to see the pieces before you turn them in.”

Then he turned around again, put his earphone back in and typed away at his laptop.

Simon struggled not to scream at the harsh dismissal.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd appreciate feedback!  
> comments & kudos ♡
> 
> the next shot of the series will be filled with pining, sexual tension and making ART.
> 
> find me on tumblr under [j-morevu](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/j-morevu)


End file.
